


You and Me and This Temptation

by DetectiveJoan



Category: Fablehaven Series - Brandon Mull
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol, Aromantic Character, F/M, Incest, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8550979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveJoan/pseuds/DetectiveJoan
Summary: "God, I’m thirsty -- can I drink this?” Kendra doesn’t give him time to answer before bringing the mug he’d left on the coffee table to her lips. And then immediately spitting half its contents out all over her hands.“That’s attractive,” Warren laughs.She coughs and makes a disgusted face. “That was not water,” she says.OR:5 times Kendra drinks





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for underage drinking, cousin incest, age difference. 
> 
> I have literally never once in my entire life actually touched an alcoholic beverage so like. i have no idea where this came from. i'm sorry ?
> 
> Title from Carly Rae Jepsen's _I Really Like You_

1.

The first time isn’t even remotely close to his fault, really. Warren’s sitting on his own couch in his own cabin with his own trashy paperback and a long evening ahead of him with no obligations when Kendra crashes through the front door. Which isn’t really an uncommon or even unexpected event at this point. She’s sweating and panting like she just ran a marathon, a theory supported by her ratty tennis shoes and gym shorts. Kendra’s the only woman Warren’s ever met who exercises in shorts that reach below her knees -- and she’s still more of a girl than a woman, really. Barely seventeen.

“Every time I run down to the gate and back, it feels farther away,” Kendra pants, throwing herself onto the couch cushion next to him. “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Getting easier every time, or something like that? God, I’m thirsty -- can I drink this?”

She doesn’t give him time to answer before bringing the mug he’d left on the coffee table to her lips. And then immediately spitting half its contents out all over her hands.

“That’s attractive,” Warren laughs.

She coughs and makes a disgusted face. “That was not water,” she says.

“No, that was vodka.”

“That’s disgusting,” she says, and makes a gagging sound. “I can’t believe you drink that on purpose.”

“I can’t believe you just got your germs all over my drink,” he says in mock outrage.  

She makes another disgusted face and pulls herself to her feet. “I’m going to go swallow an entire tube of toothpaste,” she says as she leaves the room. Then, from the bathroom, she calls out, “And I’m using your toothbrush.”

 

2.

They throw together a dinner for Kendra’s high school graduation. It’s not exactly _lavish_ , but it’s always a rare occasion that gets the whole family to share a meal now that the entire Larson-Burgess-Sorenson gang can’t fit in the dining room at the same time. They set up tables outside because it’s the only way to hold everyone. Even Bracken shows up, so there’s more fairies than usual flitting around the garden. As the sun melts into the treetops, their multi-hued glow adds an ambiance of festivity -- Warren always think they look vaguely like christmas lights when there’s this many of them in one place.

He’d found a couple bottles of champagne and brought them out to celebrate; Stan doesn’t usually permit much alcohol on the preserve, let alone indulge in it himself, but even he agrees that this is a special sort of celebration. Besides, there’s not really enough for anyone to get drunk. All of the flutes are only half-filled, including the one Warren offers to Kendra.

She looks at her parents first for permission. Scott shrugs; Marla says, “It’s your party, sweetie, you can drink if you’d like to.”

“Can I try some?” Seth asks, leaning forward in his seat.

The negative answer comes instantaneously and simultaneously from Marla, Ruth, and Stan. Warren half shrugs an apology at him, still holding the last flute out to Kendra.

She smiles bashfully as she accepts the glass. And not that Warren’s really paying attention, but if he happens to notice that the flute has barely emptied by the time Seth hooks up his iPod to the speaker system he’d rigged earlier that afternoon and Kendra drags Bracken off to dance, well. No one can exactly fault Warren for being observant.

Kendra stopped getting taller when she was sixteen, the same year Seth hit a dramatic growth spurt and finally surpassed her in height. Tonight, though, she’s wearing heels that almost draw her level with Bracken, and she’s got on a brand new dress with a hemline several inches higher than anything Warren has ever seen her in before. It’s… _Christ_ , there is a line, he thinks, regarding the sort of thoughts he should be having about _Kendra_ , who is not only his close friend but also his distant cousin, and who is not only too young for him but also so obviously already taken and not interested, and

 _Christ,_ he thinks again, watching her laugh as Bracken spins her dramatically and she stumbles in the heels she still hasn’t quite gotten used to.

Warren runs his hand through his hair and pulls himself together. He grabs Kendra’s barely-touched glass of champagne and crosses the lawn to where Seth’s still fiddling with the speakers.

“If you tell anyone I gave you this, I will deny it,” he says before handing it over.

Seth grins.

 

3.

Warren’s never really understood why the whole concept of aromanticism is so hard for people to grasp, but most of his coming out stories involve his being treated as a some kind of incomprehensible anomaly. He doesn’t mention it to Kendra for a long time; she’s the girl who draws hearts in the margins of all her notebooks and always has a million and one things to say about her dating life, so he’s not sure how well she’ll react. But in the end, coming out to her goes...pretty well, actually.

“Wait. So you’ve never had a crush?” Kendra says when he explains it to her. “Like...on anyone? Ever?”

“Nope.”

She considers that for a moment. “Okay. But I can still talk to you about boy problems, right?”

“Of course,” he says, relieved that that’s her only concern.

Kendra tells Warren she’s going to break up with Bracken nearly two months before she actually does it. The delay isn’t due to her lack of resolve. That’s just the next time he shows up after she’s made the decision. “It’s not that he’s not great,” Kendra had said that first time she’d mentioned it, “because he really is. Great, I mean. When he’s here.”

“But he’s never here,” Warren had said.

“Yeah.” Kendra sounded glum about it. “Is that a crazy reason to break up with someone?”

“Nah. I think the whole point of having a boyfriend is to have someone who’s there for you whenever you need them to be,” he’d reassured her.

“Exactly,” she’d said, sounding relieved at his agreement.

When she shows up on his doorstep two months later, her eyes red and puffy, he pulls her into a hug without hesitation.

“I just finished crying and you’re gonna make me start again,” she complains, sniffling into his shirt.

“Bracken?” he says, letting her go. She nods, wiping at her eyes and studiously not looking at him. “Is this an ice cream break up or an alcohol break up?”

She barely takes time to consider before replying, “Both, I think. Also, trivial pursuit.”

“Sounds like a winning combination,” he says.

“Can I take a shower first? I feel really gross.”

An hour later, they’re pressed side by side on the couch, a mostly-empty bottle of wine on the table next to the trivial pursuit box. They’d abandoned the board and game pieces in favor of just reading the cards off to each other -- Kendra’s interest in the game had always been more for the facts than for the competition. She’s wearing an old pair of his sweats and a hoodie that’s been hanging in the back of his closet since high school, and her hair is still wet and dripping on her shoulders. She’d chopped it into a short a-line just before her nineteenth birthday and now, close to a year later, it’s still barely long enough to tuck behind her ears. The cuffs of the sleeves are rolled up twice over but she still looks like she’s swimming in the hoodie.

He knows they’ve had about the same amount to drink -- if anything, she’s maybe had a little bit more, but she’s acting completely unaffected by it. And Warren is acting, well, completely smashed if he’s honest. “This must be some kind of weird fairy thing,” he says, fully aware that the words are slurred. “Makin’ me look like a fucking lightweight.”

“Probably,” she says, sounding unconcerned and disgustingly sober. She eats another spoonful of ice cream out of the carton nestled in her lap, then pulls another card. “How many oscars did _Titanic_ win?”

“Six,” he guesses wildly.

She flips the card over. “Eleven.”

The whole concept of sitting upright suddenly seems like more effort than it’s worth and Warren sort of falls over until he crashes into Kendra, face buried against the side of her neck. “I’m way too drunk for this,” he says, voice muffled against the hoodie.

“Maybe it’s just ‘cause you weren’t eating enough ice cream to balance out the wine,” Kendra suggests. She shifts underneath him, setting the ice cream and the cards on the floor, and then she burrows back into the couch so he can settle against her more comfortably. She smells like -- well, like him. Like his shampoo and his laundry soap because she’d been in his shower earlier and was in his clothes now and that was. Kind of fucking hot, actually. The idea that she fit so effortlessly into his life and home.

“Good theory,” he says. “Remind me to do more of the ice cream next time.”

Kendra doesn’t laugh, exactly, but sort of snorts at him and he can tell she’s smiling at least. And that idea feels good, too.

 

4.

“Who do you know in Spain?” Seth asks, sorting through the mail at the breakfast table and handing an envelope covered in international stamps to Kendra. Her name is curled across the center of it in a thin script. She shrugs and carefully slices it open with an knife.

It turns out to be a wedding invitation from Vanessa, of all people. The details are printed in that same thin script beside a photo of Vanessa holding hands with a woman with short, tightly-curled hair and a dark complexion. The fiancée. _Jessica_. “They look cute together,” Kendra says, passing the photo around.

“You always think Vanessa looks cute,” Seth says without even glancing at it.

Kendra pulls the RSVP sheet from the envelope. “Just for that, I’m not bringing you as my plus one,” she says.

“Like I’d want to go. Weddings are boring.”

“Maybe, but it’s in Spain. In June. That’ll probably be fun.”

The photo’s made its way to Warren, who says, “The fiancée looks like a witch.”

“Figuratively?” Kendra asks.

“Nah. Even odds she’s a literal magic user.”

“Wanna come with me and find out?”

Warren frowns. “I’m not sure Vanessa would want me there.”

Kendra holds up the RSVP, flips it over so he can see the back. Written in a messy scrawl are three words: _Don’t bring Bracken_. “You didn’t make the uninvited list,” Kendra reasons.

“Only because the breakup gossip hasn’t made it to Europe yet,” he says, but he agrees to go with her in the end.

The wedding is a much bigger affair than he’d expected, and they’re easily lost in the crowd. The ceremony is beautiful, probably -- it’s mostly in Spanish, so Warren doesn’t catch a lot of what they’re actually saying, but the room is strung up with so many flowers he can hardly believe that they managed the decoration without some help from fairies.

When the ceremony ends, Kendra grabs his hand and drags him out the door after the brides before half the crowd is even out of their seats. Warren has to conceded that they really are a beautiful couple, even more so for the way they’re absolutely glowing with joy. He can’t remember ever seeing Vanessa smile that brightly for that long, and there’s still the entire reception to go.

Vanessa catches Kendra up in an excited hug while Warren and the fiancée -- wife, now -- Jessica -- stand a step back. He offers her an awkward smile. Finally, Vanessa steps back, holding Kendra at arms’ length. She reaches up with one hand and tugs at the ends of her hair, still cut just below her chin. “You look good,” she says before turning and saying something in rapid Spanish to Jessica. The only bit Warren catches is Kendra’s name.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Jessica says, shaking Kendra’s hand warmly. Her accent it thicker than Vanessa’s, but not by much. “I’ve heard a lot about you, but I don’t think Vanessa ever mentioned how brightly you glow.”

“You can see that?” Kendra sounds surprised.

“Jessica’s a witch,” Vanessa tells her conspiratorially. “She can see more than most mortals.”

“Speaking of mortals,” Jessica says, extending her hand to Warren. “You’re a little outnumbered here.”

“Story of my life.” Warren wraps his free arm around Kendra’s shoulders. “This one’s a bit of a magnet for the supernatural.”

“More like a lighthouse,” Jessica says with a wink. There’s a line forming behind them of other friends trying to congratulate the happy couple, and Kendra and Warren drift away towards the reception hall after brief promises to catch up later.

“I totally called her as a witch,” Warren gloats. “What’s my prize?”

“A drink?” Kendra snags two glasses off the tray of a waitress as they pass her, and she hands one over to Warren. It’s champagne, again, but much higher quality than anything he’d ever bartered off the satyrs at Fablehaven. Kendra actually drinks it this time, but Warren switches off to water after the first glass.

Sometime after the cutting of the cake but before the bouquet toss, Jessica asks Warren for a dance. He exchanges a glance with Kendra, but allows himself to be lead to the dance floor.

“So,” she says as soon as he’s put his hand on her waist, “you and Vanessa?”

“Yeah, we didn’t last very long.” When Jessica just raises her eyebrows at him, he elaborates, “I had a run-in with a revenant that put a bit of a damper on my dating life. And I’m not really into blixes, to be honest.”

He’s never quite managed to sort out all of his feelings about Vanessa. It seems dishonest to try and explain their history in the space of two sentences; “I’m not really into romance” would have been more accurate, but this doesn’t feel like that sort of conversation. And, hey, he’s not here to dissect an old relationship. Jessica and Vanessa seem happy, and he’d rather not say anything to mess that up.

Jessica looks amused. “No, apparently fairies are more your speed.”

Warren laughs. He can’t help it. It hits him suddenly, like a punch in the stomach -- the fact that he’s been so obviously lost on Kendra for who knows how long now. And that he hasn’t actually done anything about it -- can’t do anything about it, shouldn’t do anything about it.

The look Jessica gives him is disconcertingly perceptive. “You haven’t told her yet?” she asks.

He sighs. “It’s complicated.”

The look Jessica gives him is pitying. “Most relationships are,” she says.

Kendra cuts in at the end of the dance, wraps her arms around Warren’s neck and pulls him close as a slower song starts up.

“What did Jessica want?” she asks.

“To know if she needed to be jealous of me.”

Kendra scrunches up her nose. “What’d you tell her?”

“Oh, that I’m definitely madly in love with Vanessa. I mean, I haven’t seen her in nearly six years, but what’s a little time between soul mates? What do you think my chances are of getting her ditch this shindig and run back to America with me? Pretty good, right?”

Kendra ducks her head forward and bumps her forehead against his shoulder as she laughs, and Warren can’t hold back a grin. This is enough, he thinks. To have Kendra this close, stepping on his toes and laughing against his chest. It’s good -- great, actually.

But then she tips her head back and kisses him. It’s soft and unhurried and great -- more than great, so far beyond great that he think maybe he needs to completely recalibrate his definition of ‘great’. When she pulls back, she’s still grinning, but it’s shyer and there’s a hint of a blush over her cheeks.

“If I had planned on doing that, I would’ve shaved,” Warren says. It’s possibly the dumbest thing he has ever said in his life, but Kendra doesn’t stop smiling.

“I like the beard,” she says, and kisses him again.

 

5.

They catch a pre-dawn flight home through Dublin the next day, but their connection back to Connecticut gets canceled. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, but it’s Midsummer’s Eve and the next plane won’t get them back until after dark.

“I guess we’ll catch a hotel for the night,” Warren says when he finishes discussing the situation with Stan over the phone. Kendra shrugs; he doesn’t have to tell her that entering a preserve during a festival night would be suicide.

They blow some of their wait time wandering the over-priced gift-shops before crashing at the bar; it seems to have the most comfortable chairs, oddly enough. Warren waves the bartender away when he approaches, but he returns a few minutes later and sets a cocktail glass in front of Kendra.

“From the gentleman across the way,” he says, gesturing to a man who looks to be about Kendra’s age. He’s sitting alone and offers her a small grin when she looks over at him.

“That’s pretty brazen,” Kendra says.

“I guess we don’t look much like a couple,” Warren says.

“Or he doesn’t think you look threatening enough,” Kendra says, taking a sip.

Warren kisses her deeply, curls one hand over her cheek to hold her steady and licks the taste of the drink off her tongue. His stomach is still doing flips at the very idea that he can do this.

“Way to not be a territorial asshole,” she says when he pulls away, but she looks pleased. She sets the glass back down on the counter and hooks her foot around his ankle.

“Oh, by all means,” he says, “if you want to go talk to that guy, please feel free.”

“Mmm, I think I’m good right here.” They sit in companionable silence for a few moments before Kendra clears her throat and says, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“I know you’re not, like, _in love_ with me…”

“Right,” he says when she pauses. “But?”

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Oh, yeah.” He should probably answer with some kind of qualifier or flip the question back to her first, but then he remembers how long he’s waited to get this far. In for a penny. “I mean, obviously I do. Have you ever looked in a mirror? Any guy would be crazy not to.”

Kendra rests her elbow on the counter and her chin in her hand. She very pointedly doesn’t look at him, but he sees the blush extending from her cheeks down to her neck.

“No pressure, or anything,” he adds.

“Bracken didn’t want to,” she says, and Warren barely keeps his jaw from dropping in surprise.

“Are you kidding?”

Kendra clears her throat again before responding, and finally looks over at him. “Uh, no. I think it was some kind of, like, unicorn thing? Y’know? I mean, we didn’t talk about it a lot, but um. No, he never did.”

Warren’s deadly serious and facing her straight on when he replies. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Have you ever looked in a mirror?” she quips and takes another drink.

“No, seriously,” he says. “I meant what I said about no pressure. If you don’t want to, we won’t.”

Kendra actually rolls her eyes at him. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t want to,” she says.  “I just thought you should know.”

 

+1.

Kendra nearly falls asleep on the plane, then again during the taxi ride to the hotel. When Warren unlocks the door to their room, she follows him in, drops her bag in the middle of the floor and immediately crashes face-first onto the bed. Warren shuts the door.

“You look a little tired,” he says, but he sounds too exhausted himself for it to be properly teasing.

Kendra kicks off her shoes and buries her face in one of the pillows. “Just a bit,” she says. “Maybe a raincheck on that sex thing.”

Warren wants to laugh, but instead he yawns so hard his jaw pops. “Yeah, sure,” he says, then flips off the light and crawls into the other side of the bed.

When he wakes up a few hours later, she’s moved under the covers with him. He’s curled towards her, and her head is pillowed on his arm -- which is totally asleep. His free hand is splayed across her stomach. There’s enough moonlight filtering through the flimsy curtains to see the sprinkling of freckles across her nose that only show up in the summer. He brushes soft kisses across her cheek before pressing his lips to hers.

She wakes up slowly, doesn’t open her eyes but she kisses him back and the hand she has laying against his chest curls into a fist. “Isit morning?” she mumbles.

“No, but you’re laying on my arm,” he says.

Kendra makes a protesting noise. “Comfortable,” she says, shifting until she’s facing away from him. She places her hand over his where it’s still resting against her stomach. She twines their fingers together and pulls his hand under her shirt, and uses the leverage to pull him flush against her back. Her bare skin is warm under his hand, and his knuckles brush against her bra.

Within a matter of moments, Kendra’s breathing is slow and heavy again and he knows she’s fallen back asleep. She’s still on his arm, but he gives it up as a lost cause.

The next time he wakes up, it’s her kissing him into consciousness. She’s straddling his hips and leaning forward, with most of her weight resting on her arms that are pressed into his chest. He brings his hands up to her hips as he kisses her back lazily. When she pulls away, he finally opens his eyes. Her hair is damp where it’s hanging loosely around her face, and she’s already dressed.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Looks like you’ve already been up for a while,” he replies, hooking his fingers through her belt loops.

“Seth called and woke me up earlier. Everyone else is on festival clean up duty, so he’s driving down to pick us up.” She glances at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “We’ve got about twenty minutes before he gets here.”

Warren rolls them over, presses her into the mattress and kisses her soundly. It’s deeper this time, hungrier and with a promise of _more_ that he doesn’t have the time to follow through on.

“I should probably go shower before he gets here,” he says, regretting every word as he says it.

Kendra licks her lips. “Probably,” she agrees.

He leans forward and presses his forehead against hers. He closes his eyes and just takes a moment to breathe her in. “Another raincheck on that sex thing?” he says.

“Yeah,” she says. “Try again tonight?”

He presses a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “It’s a date.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> all unicorns are asexual. fight me.


End file.
